


Pretty Boy

by AbusiveLittleBun



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Bathtub Sex, But only a bit, Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Feminization, Fluff, M/M, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Rent Boy!Tommy Shelby, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Smut, and surprisingly, but Tommy is a masochistic hoe he loves it, he wears feminine clothing but come on, mentions of abuse, rent boy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25337854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbusiveLittleBun/pseuds/AbusiveLittleBun
Summary: Alfie has a meeting with Changretta coincidentally at the same hotel where a pretty whore, named Tommy Shelby goes to give a special room service...
Relationships: Chester Campbell/Tommy Shelby, Luca Changretta/Tommy Shelby, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 20
Kudos: 111





	Pretty Boy

**Author's Note:**

> The Rent Boy Au I've been planning to write for AGESSS!! Thank you for Irie for urging me to actually write it and keeping the idea in my mind for all this time!! Couldn't have written it without your support!!!  
> You are the best partner in horny crime I could ever wish for ❤

Alfie was irritated to the core.

The hotel was far too extravagant for his liking. It had too many golden motifs curling up the greek pillars, too many crystals on the enormous chandeliers, too many flowers in the overfilled porcelain vases on every goddamn surface of the wretched place.

The luxury was too big of a slap in the face for anyone coming in from just a few streets away, where the poor were barefoot and begging for a penny to feed their starving offspring, only to be spit at by the rich. It was stomach-turning. But that was London.

Alfie already left the bakery in a sour mood, not too keen on the whole meeting, to be honest, but the sharp contrast of the Londoner lifestyles made him outright infuriated. And he was yet to see Sabini's ugly mug. This day could not have gone more south if it tried. 

He left Ishmael and David at the front entrance of the hotel's restaurant, he has been told that this was supposed to be a peaceful discussion, and no bodyguards were to be needed. He still grunted at them to keep their eyes open, these sneaky fucking wops are close to, if not, the last to be trusted, after all. 

It's been a week since the peace proposal and the invite; Sabini tried to act as if the rivalry only bored and annoyed him, but Alfie knew the bastard since elementary school. His little facial ticks, the way his short laugh almost sounded like a beaten dog's whimper, too forced, even for him, his little rat hands nervously rubbing against each other.

Sabini was afraid. No, not afraid, but shitting-his-pants terrified. And Alfie knew he wasn't the one to elicit such reaction from Darby, that would be the day.

When Alfie finally told him to cut the bullshit, he didn't prepare a fucking gift basket because he was only tired of their feud, just get to the point, Sabini's composure visibly fell, as if someone threw a whole piano on him.

"Alfie, we have to join forces. I know you'd rather get the plague then shake hands on it, believe me, I feel the same way, but we have to, or he'll destroy us all."

Alfie has never seen Darby so deflated in all the decades he knew him. Not even when they were eight and Alfie broke a crate of wine on Darby's father's turf. Darby was all wide-eyed and silent, instead of his usual shouting. He could already foresee how he'll be beaten by his old man for someone else's mischief. 

Sabini told him how the New York Italian mafia took interest in spreading their influence to London; apparently, Luca Changretta, the new boss was keen on holding both reigns of trade. Greedy fucker.

Changretta made an offer to Sabini, but he wasn't very flexible with his criteria. He was not only trying to strengthen the bond between the American-, and English-Italians but demanding bigger cuts and exclusive deals and complete transparency, all things Darby would never in his right mind ever agree to. 

Only a few hours after, Sabini's biggest warehouses burnt to the ground with several of his men. Changretta didn't even try to hide that it was his doing.

If even with his own kin he could be so stern and cruel, Alfie and his gang could start investing in some brown trousers.

Changretta was coming to London,- Sabini told him,- they have to stick together if they don't want all of their turfs to be swiped away; if it seems like they're good partners or even friends, Luca would be less likely to make a move, outnumbered on a foreign field. Maybe they could even persuade him into a mutually beneficial deal.

Alfie looked down at his pocket watch as he made his way towards the reserved table the waiter was showing him to, he was five minutes early.

Sabini was already sitting at the tucked-away, private corner table, biting his nails and looking like one of those nerve-wrecked little ankle-biters in heavily-perfumed ladies' bags.

"Fucking hell, mate, you want him to feel outnumbered, not like he's about to put you down like an unwanted dog. Stop that, disgusting habit," Alfie whispered harshly as he approached the other man, nodding at the digits he was gnawing.

"If we mess this up, Alfie, he'll take the city, if not our heads. You have no idea what he's capable of. He blinded one of his cousins for backtalking to him," that reply did make him blink a couple of times. 

"That's why we fucking won't, mate," Alfie sounded and looked casual but on the inside, he tried his hardest to calm himself, his belly has coiled tight from irritation and worry. If this man could get Sabini in such a state, he was more than a little threat.

Luca Changretta was sharply on time, walking through the restaurant as if he owned it, in his immaculate suit, talking to another man a few steps behind him in a low voice before giving him his hat and signaling with a wave of his hand to scram. He came up to the table as if he was greeting old friends instead of potential enemies, an amused smile curling on his thin lips pursed around a toothpick.

Alfie's first impression of Changretta could be phrased simply with four words: overly tall sadistic cunt.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I've been waiting to make your acquaintance for some time," his accent was even more irritating than Darby's, the American drawl getting under Alfie's skin in record speed. Remaining polite will be a mighty feat.

Alfie could give himself a fucking medal for how respectful he remained for the first fifteen minutes of their conversation, all business and small talk, minimal storytelling, and not calling him a fucking stork-legged, egotistic, wop rat. Even Darby managed to be his usual spinelessly overly polite self with minimal sweating. 

Then things went to the gutter with lightning speed.

"Coming to England was necessary, London is an important trade base, even if it's a tasteless, filthy city with unedible food and horrid people," Changretta said with a little snicker.

Alfie knew that, but hey, this is his filthy city, "Says the man from fucking New York," he grunted, unable to leave without a comment.

Sabini looked at him with wide eyes, his smile frozen in place. Changretta raised a judgemental brow, his smirk disappearing slowly, and put his wineglass down, pinning Alfie with an icy glare.

"What about New York?" his tone was low and gravely but Alfie was irritated enough to look past it and rant a bit because he felt fucking enraged by having to entertain that condescending prick for this long already.

"Besides smelling of piss and shitty, sugary liquor?" Alfie started, his words flooding uncontrollably after this much pent up irritation, "The London sewer rats have better food than what the braindead, American, coked-up cunts serve there. Soggy, weeks-old meatballs, and drinks that could kill a healthy man with diabetes. As if a mentally-handicapped toddler made it. Just like the rest of the fucking States. A right fucking shithole filled with nothing but disease, loose prostitutes, bigots, idiots, and thieves. Otherwise a lovely place mate, no offense."

He stepped over the line. He knew he stepped over the fucking line but he couldn't give less of a fuck, in all honesty, because how dare this parrot-nosed fucker-

Changretta looked eerily calm and collected if not how his jaw clenched before standing up suddenly, the scrape of his chair against the hardwood floor a deafening sound as he towered with all his massive height over them both.

"I will not have you degrade my territory, Mr. Solomons."

"Yeah, mate, same here," Alfie returned the dagger-like stare, high on anger and adrenaline.

Changretta just stood for another minute, eyes boring a hole into Alfie's skull, before turning sharply on his heel, "Very well. I'll be returning to my room, gentlemen. We have nothing more to discuss."

And just like that, he left the way he came, like he owned the place. Alfie groaned at the thought that maybe the bastard will in a day or two.

×××

Tommy made sure to be on time when he arrived at the hotel.

Campbell hated it when he was late and always punished him for it, either with his belt or his cane, and the bruises from their last session still ached and stood out as purple and yellow clouds on the milk-white skin of his back, bottom and thighs. He didn't feel like adding more to his agony at the moment.

It's not as if he's not used to pain, most of the customers like to rough him up, tell him he's too pretty for his own good, have to see how far they could bend such a delicate flower before it breaks.

"The prettier the whore, the harsher the customer," is what Polly used to say when it was still her who bandaged him up afterwards.

Then Campbell must have thought him drop-dead gorgeous with how much he liked to make Tommy suffer.

He's been a regular since he was made chief inspector of the Birmingham Police Department, almost seven years ago. He was meant to sack the Peaky Blinders bordello, but when he went in with a warrant and saw the then sixteen-year-old Tommy, still flushed and pulling up his stockings after a customer, he quickly put away the paper and asked for an hour with him instead.

The bordello is allowed to run without interference as long as Campbell is allowed access to Tommy's services at all times and can do whatever he wants to him. Polly didn't even blink before she agreed to the deal. Tommy didn't mind at the time.

But Campbell didn't only visit the bordello occasionally, no, he liked to order Tommy to him, to his house, to his office, to his car, to a bar, wherever he felt like, instead of going somewhere below his rank. Also whenever he wanted; there were several occasions when he had to get off another man's cock just to run to Campbell's calling.

Now he ordered Tommy to a fancy hotel in London of all places. Campbell sent a car for him, so he wouldn't have to cover his journey's cost, and paid extra for having Tommy spend a couple of nights with him in London. He had some kind of conference there and wanted a warm body for the nights.

Tommy didn't see why the older man couldn't have just gone to some London whorehouse where they sell boys too, but then again, he didn't take on the services of any others in the Peaky Blinders either, Tommy being his favorite.

Tommy washed up and dressed quickly before the car arrived, adjusting his corset and makeup on the road. He wore the pearl necklace, the big white fur coat, the lacy black nightgown, the silky corset, and the red heels Campbell got him. Even the crimson lingerie under his dress was a gift from the older man. 

He liked to buy him clothes and Tommy didn't object to the pampering after the rough fucks. The only thing on him now from his own money being the black fishnet thighs. Campbell liked to tear them off, so there was no need for quality in that department.

He stood out like a sore thumb in the fancy hotel hall, the receptionist looking at him incredulously for a moment before putting back his polite mask and asking him if he had a reservation in a tight tone. 

"I was ordered to the room of a man under the name of Chester Campbell. Grey, old pig with a cane and a thick mustache, looks like he bit into a lemon at all times. He is waiting for a rentboy, I'm sure he mentioned."

Tommy didn't shy away from stating his occupation and just kept on smoking his cigarette with icy nonchalance, silently daring the receptionist to comment on his state of dress. The other man gulped, uncomfortable under his gaze, as many others tended to, and flipped through the guest book quickly.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Campbell mentioned that he would be expecting... company. He'll be in room 203, second floor. Have a good evening, sir."

He looked so nervous, a blush creeping across his barely-composed face, that he must have been a newbie, who never directed prostitutes to wealthy old men before, and Tommy couldn't stop himself from teasing him a little.

"I can give you a good evening, hot stuff," Tommy answered in a much more promiscuous tone with an obscene lick to his lips and a wink, before walking away from the front desk. He barely noticed the flushing receptionist harshly whisper after him when his shift ends. As if the idiot could ever pay enough.

Tommy was either gawked or frowned at as he crossed the hall and made his way towards the elevators, but he was used to that treatment from the upper-class bastards that thought themselves above the clouds. He just held his head high and acted as if he belonged with them.

A middle-aged rich couple was waiting for the elevator when Tommy reached it, the man openly looking him up and down with interest and loosening his collar when Tommy poked his long leg out more from under the long fur coat.

Tommy only had to raise a suggestive brow at him before the woman grabbed her husband by the arm and stormed off in an outraged huff. 

Finally alone. 

He had to mentally prepare himself before stepping into Campbell's room and having an audience rarely helped in that. The elevator doors opened and Tommy stepped in, pressing the button for the second floor before leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath and holding it in for a few seconds with his eyes closed. He exhaled smoke slowly and put his cigarette out on the floor with his heel.

Being so far from home made him anxious. He didn't know London, didn't know the people here, he felt completely foreign. The only one he can cling to here was Campbell.

It's fine. He's on time, he's clean, he prepared himself beforehand, his ass is slick and plugged up for easy access, so Campbell can't tear him this time because of his impatience.

Campbell might have been his harshest customer, but not the worst. He at least had a nice dick and Tommy always got off if the old man allowed. He should let himself cry or act like a delusional housewife, Campbell loved that. Or suck him off at the door, treat his cock as if it was water in the desert, he liked him desperate as well.

His thoughts about how to please Campbell were interrupted as the closing doors were suddenly stopped by a large hand pulling them back, followed by harsh Italian cursing.

Two men were about to get in the lift; one incredibly tall, the other rather short. The short one seemed to be in a panic, begging the tall one about something, the only thing Tommy could make out from his rambling was that the tall man was called Signore Changretta and he wasn't having any of his bullshit.

Changretta was about to begin shouting at him, his deep voice dangerously rising,- the sound of it making Tommy's belly flutter,- when he noticed the occupant of the lift. His mouth closed and his eyes widened slightly as he took in Tommy's form.

The short one was still desperately rambling until the taller one put up a hand to quiet him down without looking away from Tommy, anger dethroned by curiosity as he observed Tommy's face for a long minute.

Changretta hissed something to the short man before ignoring him again completely, stepping into the elevator and letting the doors close behind him, as he resumed eye-fucking Tommy while playing with the toothpick in his mouth.

Tommy didn't let the gaze intimidate him, men like that pounce on a morsel of weakness, he looked back with challenging cold eyes, observing the other man as well.

He was sharply dressed, clearly wealthy, and very handsome in a "could kill you with a smile or a glare" type of way. His whole frame seemed to loom over Tommy, only a meter away, one of his large hands in his expensive suit pocket, the other twirling his toothpick around after pushing the button for the fourth floor.

He seemed like a right arrogant bastard, but attractive and Tommy wouldn't mind seeing what he was packing, with a built like that, he must own quite a crowd-pleasing cock, Tommy could tell.

His thoughts about what the stranger's dick might look like were put on hold as the elevator arrived at Campbell's floor and Tommy pushed away from the wall to exit, only to be stopped by a long arm suddenly blocking his way. Changretta looked down at him with predatory eyes, not moving his hand from where it rested against the wall.

"How much?" he asked, but clearly not interested in the price itself, his other hand coming up to gently push the fur coat off one of his shoulders, fingertips grazing Tommy's skin, leaving goosebumps behind.

"No luck for you, sir, I'm booked for the night." Tommy tried to duck under the arm to get out, but it just earned him a strong grip in his hair as Changretta slammed him back against the wall of the elevator, eliciting a gasp from Tommy's rouged lips. It wasn't very painful, but it still succeeded in knocking the wind out of him.

Changretta's large frame towered over him, his demanding knee coming between Tommy's quivering thighs, his hand, that was not occupied with keeping his head against the wall by his hair, tilting his chin up to look the taller man in the eye.

Tommy was unable to resist the small whimper escaping him or his panties tightening. He was strong.

"That's not what I asked," Changretta's voice sounded dangerously low, now breathing against Tommy's lips. If Tommy would have been able to get on the tip of his toes he could take out his toothpick with his teeth, but the iron hold on him left him to only wonder about that fantasy.

"He's waiting for me," Tommy tried to keep his voice from shaking but the elevator doors closed again and the lift resumed its journey. The hand under his chin started caressing down his throat, fingers tracing the pearls of his necklace, Changretta's eyes observing his face as if it was a mesmerizing painting.

"I can pay twice as much."

"I still can't just-" but Tommy's protest was cut short with Changretta pulling painfully on the necklace, choking him with it. Tommy's scrambling and clawing hands not even able to budge the large hand taking his breath away.

"Three times the price, then. How does that sound?" the sadistic fucker had the audacity to smirk as he loosened his hold on both his hair and necklace, letting Tommy almost crumble to the floor in a coughing fit, if not for the knee between his legs holding him up.

Tommy cleared his throat, massaging it with a hand, the other weakly holding onto the wrist planted next to his head, caging him in, before looking up with teary eyes at Changretta, voice rough when he spoke again.

"He'll hurt me if I accept your offer."

"I'll hurt you more if you don't accept my offer."

The hand Changretta caressed down Tommy's cheek was a sharp contrast to his cruel intentions, all gentle and sweet, lifting Tommy's face back up when he whimpered "I belong to him."

"I don't care if you're his whore, lover, or even his fucking wife," he leaned in close enough that his lips brushed Tommy's, "I don't care if you're clean or another man's spoils are still running down your thighs from your used hole, I'll be adding to that pile tonight or you will wish I had. Understood?" 

Tommy could only gulp and nod at the threat, "Yes, sir."

"Good boy," Changretta pulled back with a satisfied smirk just as the doors reopened again at his floor. He easily dragged Tommy along and out the elevator to his suite with a strong grip on his upper arm.

Tommy stumbled in his heels to the room but wasn't be able to fall due to the large hand completely circling his limb, yelping as he was roughly thrown on the king-size bed.

Changretta loosened his tie as he stood between Tommy's spread legs, observing his body at the foot of the bed, "You're by far the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, boy. I can be a gentle lover to you, kiss every inch of your skin, appreciate your beauty, and make love to your pretty body for hours, but not tonight, darling, maybe in the morning."

Tommy yelped as he was suddenly yanked closer with a firm grip on his ankle. Fishnet-clad, thin thighs touching the larger man's suit pants. Changretta's hand caressed a gentle hand from his ankle down to his flank and knee, making him shiver.

"Tonight, my sweet nymph, I want to hear you scream."

×××

Sabini came back to the table looking as if he had just been called for death row, hopelessly whining and whisper-shouting at Alfie for a solid twenty minutes, if not more, like a mother reprimanding her unruly child on a family gathering.

"Solomons, you brainless fucking animal, how could you fucking do this to us, he'll ruin us all, burn the whole city to the ground and salt the earth behind himself. We're finished, our families are finished. I wanted to die from old age, not in the gruesome manner I'm sure he's planning at the moment."

Alfie had just about enough of Darby's annoying fucking voice, his own mind screaming at him as well, he knew he messed up, goddamn it. 

"Stop your fucking yapping, mate, for fuck's sake. Acting like a pissy child, you are. You said we can outnumber the giraffe bastard. He won't be able to take down the both of us if we just work together, now, will he?" he sounded sure of himself but felt anything but that.

Sabini gave a humorless laugh that sounded more like a cry from pain, "He definitely fucking will, you babbling fool, and you know why? Because you couldn't keep your big fucking mouth shut, you deranged idiot! If we could have negotiated a deal nicely as we have planned, but no, Alfred fucking Solomons has to go on and call his turf a fucking shithole smelling of piss!"

"Don't act like it doesn't!" Alfie protested with an angry grunt, but at this point, he was just blindly defending himself against the facts.

Darby gave an annoyed sigh and dragged a hand across his face, "You have to fucking apologize, Alfie. He might not even accept it, but that's our best chance of getting out of this alive."

"Like hell, I will, the long fucker needed a reality check. He can fucking cope."

"He will cope by skinning all your men and drowning you in their blood, Alfie. You'll fucking say sorry and beg for his forgiveness or suffer the consequences. And I might fucking help him with it if that means I get to keep my life."

Alfie grumbled some more, but ultimately he already knew that Sabini was right, he just wanted to maximize his time when he doesn't have to get up and go along with the humiliating apology.

After most of the anger and fight drained out of him and Darby's voice had the same effect as nails on a chalkboard on him he finally got out of his chair and sauntered off to where Sabini said Changretta's suite was. 

He'll just say a quick "unfuck you" and be done with it. Easy.

Even before the elevator doors opened to Changretta's floor he could hear muffled noises coming through. When he stepped out of the lift the sounds of bedsprings creaking, a headboard banging against the wall with a strong rhythm, and loud desperate moans echoing through the hallway hit Alfie like a train.

Some filthy bastard was fucking his girl on maximum volume.

Lucky lad, she sounded nice, rich, deep voice mewled into a high-pitched tone. Was it even a girl at all? Questionable. Might be just a lovely boy. Either way, sweet sound.

Only when Alfie started walking towards room 407, Changretta's suite, did he become aware that the sounds became louder and clearer the closer he got.

The realization sank in lightning fast.

It could have been that Italian prick that was fucking the soul out of the screaming little thing. 

Huh. Better investigate, Alfie thought as he knocked on the door until an answer was shouted through.

"Vaffanculo, cazzo!" Yeah, that sharp bark was definitely Changretta. There was a sharp cracking sound suddenly, a gasp and whimper from the person being nailed and the earlier noises resumed with the moans being slightly more painful.

Alfie wanted to go back down to the restaurant and say that the prick was busy, but he knew Sabini would just bite his head off again, so with a sigh, he sat down to the carpeted staircase that overlooked the door, and decided to wait until Changretta finished. He might be in a more generous mood after a good fuck anyway.

And by the sounds of it, it was an amazing fuck.

×××

This was the most amazing fuck he ever had.

Tommy scrambled for purchase on the bed desperately, he felt like he might fall apart if he didn't dig his nails into the sheets. Changretta fucked him mercilessly rough, his grip on his thighs digging bruises into his skin as he kept him in place.

When Changretta saw the plug as he ripped off Tommy's panties and thighs, he didn't bother with stretching him further before sinking in, not unlike Campbell. But Tommy only prepared himself for Campbell's slightly above average size, not the huge fucking weapon the taller man was carrying.

He didn't tear yet, careful of relaxing his muscles and letting his ass be used, but the incredibly full feeling was almost far too much, too painful. 

Tommy loved it more than breathing air.

He could hear over his own cries as the larger man spit filth at his shaking body, that was bouncing like a ragdoll on his cock with every sharp thrust.

"You have the tightest little cunt I've ever fucked. Poor little whore never had a decent-sized man take him before, have you? Let me ruin your pretty little hole for everyone else, sweetheart, make you feel it and drip from it for weeks, I know you want it."

Tommy could only whine around the fingers Changretta shoved into his mouth, holding onto the long arm and clawing at his shirtsleeve as he sucked eagerly. The digits pushed down his tongue and he opened his mouth wantonly to breathe through it, feeling dazed and close to the edge.

"I might even keep you, how would that sound? A beautiful boy like you shouldn't waste away in this rathole. I'd keep you as my favorite pet, take you with me back to New York, away from this rotten place. Would you like to be my personal whore, darling?" 

Tommy's confirmative moan was interrupted by the knocking on the door, which made the larger man tear his appreciative gaze away to roar something in Italian at the person disturbing them.

He was so frightening at that moment that Tommy couldn't help clenching down on him with a whine, almost coming on the spot.

Changretta hissed at the tightening and brought his eyes back to the smaller man under him. He withdrew his fingers suddenly and backhanded Tommy hard enough to snap his face to the side with a painful gasp, the unexpected pain making him come without a hand on his aching little cock. 

The pain slowly blossomed on his heated skin as Tommy rode out his orgasm on the ongoing pounding with a whimper, his torn dress now painted with his release. 

The larger man grabbed his jaw roughly and seethed, "Did I allow you to do that, hm? No, I did fucking not," his hips shoved in even rougher, making Tommy moan in pain at the over-sensitivity, "I'll have to teach you how to properly serve me, you spoiled little slut."

Tommy keened and let his body be used by the other man without any complaints. The things Changretta could do to him terrified him. It was glorious.

×××

Alfie must have dozed off a little in his thinking because he barely registered the noises stopping and the door opening quietly and closing. The thing that roused him was the smell of smoke.

He sniffed the air and scrunched his nose before rubbing his eyes to adjust his sight, groaning.

He didn't mean to fall asleep, the carpet on the stairs and the wall against his back were just made too fucking comfortable.

He suddenly realized what the silence in the hallway meant. Changretta finally stopped fucking. Alfie looked down at his watch. Did the stork-legged bastard pound his doll for two hours? Insane animal. Great stamina though, have to respect that.

He turned towards the door only to be met with a pair of piercing blue eyes look straight back at him.

Alfie startled a bit, but the gorgeous boy the baby blues belonged to didn't even blink, just kept on smoking his cigarette. So that's where the smell came from.

Alfie took his time in looking the boy up and down, who clearly was the one Changretta nailed only minutes prior, of that he was sure, not only because he was leaning against his door but also because he looked like he got fucked beyond measure.

His dark hair was messed up, ends curling against his face and up in the air, his exposed chest, collarbones and shoulders still glistening from sweat, his glowing white skin in the hallway lights littered with bruises and bite marks.

Only his fingers peeked out from the sleeves under the white fur coat he pulled around himself, hanging off his shoulder. 

Below the fur his legs were bare, black lace kissing the middle of his thighs his only cover, hinting at the nightgown beneath the coat. They were smooth and slim, could be called porcelain if not for the angry marks dressing it in red and purple. He had heels on too, lovely shoes on his even lovelier small ankles. Alfie always appreciated some sexy high-heels.

He must have caught Alfie's hungry gaze for he let one of his enchanting thighs slide right open, inviting him in as Changretta's spend dribbled down his skin in long rivulets. 

So he was a whore, huh.

Alfie's eyes widened momentarily and snapped his gaze back up to the boy's gorgeous face, which was in itself a whole nother story. Another fucking book. Because Alfie could fucking write a whole series on that boy's indescribably beautiful face, guaranteed.

His knife-sharp, prominent cheekbones were littered with freckles like the night sky with stars, only his whole face was the shining, pale moon, adorned with a rosy blush.

His lips bitten raw, tinted with rouge that has been smeared at one corner, the brushstroke of a heated kiss, and glistening like red honey, no doubt just as sweet.

His eyes could drown a man, diamond-blue abyss they were, framed with long lashes that kissed his cheek like butterfly wings with every slow blink.

Alfie has never seen a creature so beautiful, so perfect, so indecent.

And yet Alfie was only the babbling fool Sabini has warned him he was because all that came out of his mouth at the sight was, "You shouldn't do that, love, it's not good for you," nodding towards the cigarette the boy held against his lips.

It only earned him a raised brow as those sinful lips blew smoke into the air, "Do what, stud? Get fucked by rich men and get paid for it?" his smirk was of a fallen angel, "Thanks, but I love it too much to give it up."

Alfie let out a surprised chuckle as he got up from the stairs and slowly walked towards the door, letting the boy roam his own gaze over him. He shouldn't be shamed if he made himself look a bit bigger, letting his strong figure loom over the slighter man, all animals tended to show off for a possible mate after all.

"Yeah?" God his tone sounded too low, too husky as if he was already in the middle of pinning him against the sheets, "How much?"

The boy's lashes fluttered, his gaze darting from Alfie's eyes to his lips, biting at his own. They were too close now, he could smell Changretta's cologne, sweat, and pure sex radiate off the boy, could see the purpling marks behind the pearl necklace, which made him pause and frown. 

The choke marks led him to the handprint still faintly visible on his cheek, and the running mascara tracks and smudged eyeshadow got a whole new meaning.

Alfie pulled him closer and pushed the coat off the boy's thin shoulders and saw more and more bruises and rips on his clothes now exposed. The boy just let him, sighing warmly against Alfie's chin at the exploring hands on his body.

"Did that bastard do these?" he knew he shouldn't be so angered at the rough treatment, this boy was just clearly a whore, after all, still, he felt oddly protective over him.

Before he could be given a reply the door to the room opened suddenly to reveal Changretta with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his body wet from possibly a shower.

He looked a bit surprised to see Alfie but his gaze shifted to the boy in his hold quickly, one of his large hands reaching out to grab him by the back of the skinny neck and pull him back.

"Didn't I tell you to stay fucking put, Tommy?" he hissed at the wincing boy, "Trying to escape the moment I leave the room, are you?"

"I just wanted to let my original customer know why I haven't shown up," the boy,-Tommy?-, whimpered, his frightened eyes darting from Changretta to Alfie, "I promise, I would have come back right after."

The tall fucker's face slowly turned delighted and amused as he looked back at Alfie, "Ah, Mr. Solomons, so you're the one this stray kitten belongs to, hm?" he sounded like he won the goddamn lottery, "I would say my deepest apologies for fucking your little boy toy, but as it stands I feel I've earned the compensation after your little outburst from earlier, wouldn't you say? Now we're even."

Maybe Alfie should have told him that he has no idea what they were talking about, but Tommy's hopeful eyes and Changretta's implication that his previous insulting is forgiven just urged him to play along.

He fumed and glared, visibly disgruntled at how his supposed property has been dishonored and grunted with venom, "Sure, we're even then, mate. Can I get my boy back now, Mr. Changretta?"

The weasely bastard's grin spread like wildfire, "Your Tommy has brought me great pleasure, Mr. Solomons. You have taught him well, I have become quite fond of your little whore," he nosed at Tommy's hair and kept eye contact with Alfie, "But I am a generous man. I'll give him back to you for the rest of the night if you'd be kind enough to return him to me in the morning. Washed, preferably."

Changretta shoved Tommy back into Alfie's arms, who caught him carefully, wrapping him in a tight and safe embrace, glaring daggers at the tall fucker. 

"I'm sure you can share for the well-being of our business, Mr. Solomons. I will be requiring his services at seven. Don't expect to get him back for the rest of my stay and I'll let you and Signore Sabini keep your filthy little city. Have a pleasant evening, I've loosened him up for you."

Changretta closed the door with a wink at Tommy and Alfie hurried off with the boy still in his arms towards the lift, grumbling about how he'd strangle the fucking giraffe with his guts.

Alfie was still on about his monologue about what torture techniques he'd love to use on the bastard as he made his way through the hall of the hotel and ran into Sabini and his men waiting for him.

"Well, Alfie? Will we live to see another day or have you fucked this up again like-" but Darby couldn't finish as Alfie kept on walking and dragging Tommy along and towards the exit, only grunting back a half-assed reply.

"Yeah, mate, everything is fucking fine now, fuck off kindly," he turned to his men with a deepening frown, "and why the fuck aren't you getting the goddamn car ready, Ishmael? Waiting for the end of the world, are you? Am I supposed to do everything around here or am I paying you to stand around like a dick in a bordello? Get a fucking move on."

He slapped the back of their heads, making them scurry off with frantic apologies, but Sabini was relentless in his annoying behavior as he tried to hurry on his little legs after Alfie and Tommy.

"What do you mean fine? What did you do, Alfie? What did you give him to take your apology?"

Alfie turned sharply on his heel to face Darby, "My fucking boy, mate. Satisfied? Good, now fuck off."

He didn't turn when Sabini shouted after him "You have a boy?", just waved back "I do now, yeah." and kept on making his way towards the exit but God seemed to be in the mood to test Alfie, as some old man with a thick mustache who has been shouting with the receptionist until now caught sight of them and moved to stand in their way.

"Excuse me, sir, but that boy," he pointed at the now frightened Tommy with his cane, his grey eyes filled with fury, "belongs to me."

Alfie had about enough of self-entitled assholes on this day, thank you very much, and didn't hesitate in taking his pistol out of his coat and raising it to the mustache's forehead, "Nah, mate, I don't believe he does. Nor do you, right, if you don't want your brain matter to decorate this lovely rug in, let's say, three seconds."

The old man spluttered and Alfie cocked the gun, itching to pull the trigger and let this fucking day have one good thing happen in it, but he was taken out of his thoughts as Tommy's delicate hands softly wrapped around his forearm, making him lower the weapon gently and look back down at his pretty blue eyes that were pleading at him now.

"Please, Mr. Solomons, don't," he bit at his rouged lips, an irresistible sight, truly, and Alfie sighed as he complied, glaring at the old man as he shouldered his way past him roughly.

"You better treat him like a fucking princess, next time you see him or I'll have your balls thrown to the fucking dogs, mate," he grunted at the mustached man as he finally walked out the hotel with Tommy clinging to his arm.

Tommy giggled disbelievingly as Alfie opened the car door to him and ushered him inside the backseat, "What a gentleman."

Alfie got in beside him with a frustrated snort, "Not a hard accomplishment to earn on these parts, innit? Bunch of cunts treating you worse than a fucking stray cat," he tapped Ishmael's shoulder twice, "Drive, mate, would you? Did I hire a fucking tortoise?"

"Where to, Mr. Solomons?" 

"Buckingham palace, what do you think, for fuck's-" his angry rant was cut short as a long and smooth leg fell into his lap gracefully. Looking to the side he saw Tommy staring at him with a coy smile as his red heel-clad foot rubbed gently at his crotch, the sensation enough to make him clear his throat to hide his low moan. He stroked his calloused hands over the long limb seated on him and with a much deeper voice than before he turned back to Ishmael.

"Just fucking take us back to my place. Now, preferably."

As the car started Tommy scooted closer, his ankle replaced with his thigh in Alfie's lap and with his hand rubbing at his hardening length over the fabric.

"Do you want to use my mouth, before I wash up? Don't want to keep you waiting, sir," Tommy breathed into Alfie's ear, licking at the edge and sending a shiver down the larger man's spine.

Alfie grabbed the small wrist that was already pulling at his buttons to free his half-hard cock, trying to will his interest down, "You don't have to, alright? Just gonna take you home, have you eat something, right, got to put some meat on your bones, or a stronger wind will knock you off your feet, weighing less than a fucking bird you are, son, then-"

"Then will you fuck me, daddy?" Tommy bit at his lip, the shameless little thing, riling up Alfie, using his words against him, the cheeky little cunt.

"If you don't fucking interrupt me I might," Alfie gently smacked his skinny thigh as a warning, "But I plan on having you cleaned up, nice and proper, right, get you into a nice warm bed and let you have a rest. I'll give you some breakfast too before I take you back to the hotel come morning, how does that sound, treacle?"

The boy tilted his head to the side like a curious kitten, "And where's the part where you rail me into the sheets? Or the table or against the wall? Don't worry I'm very flexible," he trailed his fingers down Alfie's shirt, popping a button then two.

Alfie grabbed at his other hand too, keeping them in the air between them, "Look, sweetie, I appreciate what you're trying to do, know it's your job and I salute your hard work, I really do, but I'll pay you ten times your price if you just let me pamper you a bit without using you against your will, alright?"

Tommy raised his brows with an amused smile, "Trying to play the knight in shining armor attempting to save the helpless whore and turn him into a princess?" he gave a humorless laugh and leaned forward so his lips grazed against Alfie's as he spoke, "I know your kind well. You don't have to pretend to give a fuck to get me to bed, I've been the best at what I do since I was in short trousers, I won't swoon from a bit of false kindness. You can act like a gentleman all you want but I know you just want to fuck me like an animal."

Alfie was far too stunned from the words and those mesmerizing eyes looking straight into his soul from this close, to give a reply. He just let Tommy lick at his lips and give a cruel smile.

"So cut the crap and let me suck you off the way I know you crave or let me go back to the hotel, Mr. Solomons. No need to pretend we're anything more than customer and whore."

That gorgeous boy almost played him like a flute, the cunning, deranged slut, almost had him give in and just let his pretty little head fall into his lap if Alfie didn't have the willpower of his mother beaten into him. 

"For nothing but a whore you do have quite the mouth on you, boy, demanding little princess you are, hm?"

Alfie took both of his wrists in one tight grasp, easily encircling the bony limbs, and smacked Tommy's thigh again, just harder, making sure the previous bruises on the flesh sting from the blow. The boy's smile fell as he winced.

"Trying to order me around like a servant, the bloody cheek on you. I'll use that filthy little mouth of yours when I see fit, as, by your designation, you are for my pleasure, not the opposite, hm? I'll take you home and care for you whether you fucking like it or not because I want to, and that is non-fucking-negotiable, love. Now, sit still on your lovely bottom or I'll whip it bloody, like the ungrateful brat you are."

Tommy pouted like a scorned schoolboy but sat back into his seat as Alfie let go of his arms. He left his thigh in Alfie's lap though, silently enjoying the soothing caresses he was given on his heated skin by the rough palms for the rest of the short car-ride.

When they arrived, Alfie grunted "Goodnight" to his men as he hauled Tommy out and slammed the car door behind him, letting them leave as he made his way up the stairs and to the door. He unlocked the various locks and opened the door wide for the boy to enter. 

Tommy glared at Alfie suspiciously but stepped in hesitantly, wrapping his coat around himself like an armor as he moved past the larger man and into the hallway.

His maid was probably already asleep but that was fine, Zipporah shouldn't be the one feeding the whores he brings home, anyway.

Alfie led Tommy into the kitchen and motioned him to sit, which the little shit didn't comply to and just leaned against the counter in defiance.

"Hope you're not allergic to good bread, sweetheart, because I make the best in all of London if not the bloody country," he muttered a bit to himself as he rummaged through the cupboard for the apricot jam he knew would knock the socks,- or in this case, heels -, off any man's feet, wondering if he might have eaten it in the morning, but oh, no, got it.

"You're a baker?" Tommy asked incredulously as he lifted the cover off the basket hosting the fresh loaves.

"Amongst other things, yeah, but the proudest of this work. Much cleaner than the main business." Tommy snorted but let Alfie cut him two thick slices of bread and butter them generously, "Now, this,", Alfie raised the jar of jam before the boy, expecting full attention as if he was raising the holy grail, "This is a fucking orgasm to the mouth, mate."

Tommy gave another one of those sinful, coy smirks of his that could make Alfie infuriatingly horny, "I had many orgasms in my mouth, Mr. Solomons, and they're usually not that color."

Alfie groaned at the boy's amused chuckle but still spread a liberal amount of the apricot jam on the buttered slices, "That bloody mouth on you, son, will take me to an early grave if you don't shut up."

Tommy was licking his lips and batting his eyelashes already in that unmistakable "Fuck me now" way before replying with a purr, "Make me, daddy," and oh, Alfie sure did, barely after the last word left his lovely mouth, just not in the way the younger man would have hoped for.

Tommy startled a bit as one of the slices was shoved into his mouth, but quickly recovered and held onto Alfie's hand forcing the food into his mouth so he could nibble at his own pace.

His face had smears of butter and jam added to the lipstick stains as he pulled back with his cheeks full like a hamster's. An adorable sight that made Alfie smile warmly at the boy. He looked so young and innocent as he chewed.

"Pretty good stuff, innit?" Alfie's grin spread as Tommy leaned back for another bite, earning him a bashful glare.

"'s not bad..." Tommy muttered with his mouth full, keeping Alfie's wrist in place instead of taking the food in his own hands. So he enjoyed being fed, huh.

The boy eagerly ate the slice and licked Alfie's fingers clean after he wiped his face down with his thumb, sucking on the digits to chase the flavor with a content hum. It didn't seem like he was doing it to entice Alfie, he was just naturally enchanting and slutty.

"Let me get you some milk with that, and we can bring it up to the bathroom. My maid always readies me hot water for when I get back so you can eat the rest in the bath if you'd like."

Tommy's eyes widened as he sucked on Alfie's finger, not believing the serious pampering the older man had in store for him. Alfie withdrew his digit with a wet pop, grabbed the bottle of milk in the icebox, and led Tommy up the stairs as he brought along his plate with the remaining slice.

Just as he thought, the bath was still steaming as they stepped into the bathroom, Tommy gawking at the size of the tub. Zipporah should get another pay raise.

Alfie took the plate from the boy and put it on the little table next to the bath with the milk before moving to take off his coat, suit jacket, vest and slide off the fur of Tommy's boney shoulders.

Tommy let himself be undressed without complaint, studying Alfie's face silently as the older man unlaced his corset and lifted his dress over his head, putting their clothes into the laundry pile by the door.

"No underwear? Thought you were the farthest thing from decent, but really?" Alfie scoffed as he kneeled to take the shoes off the delicate ankles.

Tommy let himself be treated like a doll and pulled his plug out before stepping into the tub as the heels were removed his feet, sinking into the hot water with a satisfied moan as he answered, "The customer before you tore them off together with my tights."

Alfie huffed as Tommy scrubbed at his plug, "That fucking wop, acting like a goddamn animal," he rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the sponge on the side irritatedly, soaking it into the water before stroking it over Tommy's shoulder, who purred into the pampering, letting Alfie grumble more curses at Changretta as he added scented oils and soap to his ministrations and cleaned him gently but thoroughly.

As Alfie leathered shampoo onto his scalp, massaging through the thick, wet locks of hair, Tommy moaned into the larger man's monologue, boneless to the sensation, relaxing into the gentle touch. Alfie rinsed off his hair when he deemed it done and cleaned his face with a wet washcloth, Tommy completely submitting to the pampering.

When he was done with that too Alfie lifted his arm away but it was quickly taken back by Tommy's weak hands clutching at it, "Here too," he breathed hotly against Alfie's face as he brought his hand under the water and between his skinny thighs, "Please clean me here too."

Alfie groaned, his trousers getting tighter by the minute, but complied to the little nymph's request and slid his hand between his spread legs to finger out the spoils that the previous man left behind. His shirt was getting increasingly wet as Tommy wrapped his arms around his neck and held him close as he moaned softly into his ear at every drag of his fingertips, but Alfie couldn't care less in all honesty.

At a deeper drag Tommy's breath audibly caught and his body tensed before releasing a lovely mewl, and, yeah, Alfie must have found his sweet spot. No one can blame him if he made sure to rub against that bundle of nerves to elicit those delightful noises from his boy as he fingered him clean.

Tommy's hands clawed at his scalp and back as he whimpered into Alfie's ear, kissing his cheek wantonly, "Please, Mr. Solomons, fuck me."

Alfie pulled him back with a hand fisted into the boy's hair to look him in the eyes, "Do you truly desire that, Tommy, or do you just want me to be another customer, hm?"

Tommy answered in a high-pitched mewl, "I want it, please, I want you, ah, so much, please, Mr. Solomons..."

Alfie chuckled and withdrew both of his hands as he stood to unbutton his shirt, Tommy immediately attacking his belt to fish out his cock from the confines of his trousers.

He seemed to remember suddenly what Alfie told him in the car because instead of taking him into his mouth the moment his erection was out of his pants, Tommy looked up with pleading eyes as he rubbed his cheek against his length.

"Can I please suck it, Mr. Solomons?"

Alfie threw his shirt to the side, "Do you feel like you deserve it, son?"

Tommy keened and mouthed against the hot flesh, drooling against it, "Yes, daddy, I've been such a good boy for you, so patient, please, let me, I want it so bad."

God, if Tommy wasn't the most talented actor then he was the most perfect little whore, either way, he was driving Alfie insane, "Is that so? Then go ahead, love, show daddy how much you want it."

Alfie barely finished and Tommy was latching onto him, closing his eyes and moaning in ecstasy as he finally took him into his mouth as far as he could on the first try, bobbing down to take more in greedily, saliva trickling down his chin as slobbered over Alfie's dick. 

That boy sure was made to suck cock, Alfie thought as he fisted a hand in his wet locks, gently fucking into his mouth until Tommy's nose was buried in his pubic hair.

The smaller man sounded like he was in heaven and opened his tearful eyes to look up at Alfie with pure adoration as he relaxed his throat for the older man's use.

Alfie could have blown his load right there and then, but he still had a mission to accomplish, so he gently slapped Tommy's cheek and pulled him back by the hair, earning a bratty whine from the boy kneeling in the tub, "Come on, treacle, didn't you beg to get your ass fucked a few minutes ago, hm?"

Tommy nodded, biting at his lips that were now glistening with saliva and precome, scooting back to give space for Alfie to step in. The older man made quick work on his remaining clothing, throwing them messily on the floor before climbing into the water and reclining against the edge of the tub with a groan.

He barely had to open his arms as an invite and the little minx was already eagerly climbing into his lap and leaving wet kisses on his cheek as he clawed at his now naked back.

Alfie turned to meet his lips, not bothered by his own taste mixed with the sweet treat he gave the boy earlier and Tommy moaned blissfully into the kiss as the larger man licked into his mouth and tightened his hold on the slim waist.

Tommy kissed like he was starved out for it, every gentle caress he received was electric on his sensitive skin, trembling from want. 

By far the most eager slut Alfie ever had the fortune meeting.

Tommy gave out the most delicious sound Alfie could've ever swallowed as he lined himself up and slid into the loosened up hole, his hips eagerly trying to rock down on his length if not for the larger man's strong arms holding him back and gently easing him down, instead of letting the boy impale himself without properly adjusting first.

Tommy broke the kiss to gasp with a small sound as Alfie bottomed out, his hole still tighter than he thought it would be, fluttering around his cock.

"Thought you've been properly loosened by that fucker," Alfie grunted into Tommy's warm mouth, kissing away his needy noises as the boy gently rocked back and forward to adjust to the full feeling.

"Oh, Mr. Changretta was big. He was very big, like you," Tommy moaned into the kiss, "Ah, but your cock is so thick as well, Mr. Solomons."

Alfie bit at the boy's plush lips, his voice rumbling like thunder as he started slowly lifting and dropping Tommy on his length like a ragdoll, "Yeah? You like this fat cock stretching your sweet hole wide open, baby boy?" he increased his pace with a little slap to the boy's butt.

Tommy's answering moan was definitely loud enough to wake the maid as he keened, "Yes, I love it, daddy, I love your cock, ah." Honestly, the sweetest music to Alfie's ears.

"Then let the fucking neighbors know it too, doll," and that was all the warning he gave as he began bucking his hips up harder and faster, hitting Tommy's sweet spot with every thrust, making him scream with pleasure and claw red welts into his back as he held on for the ride. 

Probably half the water sloshed out from the tub, but the mess was worth it as the sweet boy bounced on his cock like he belonged on it.

It didn't take half as long as Alfie expected to make Tommy come on his cock with a shriek, with a well-timed hit to his prostate, making him ride his orgasm out with the larger man's savage thrusts still ongoing.

Tommy slumped against Alfie's hold and mewled weakly as his overly sensitive hole kept on being used for longer.

He gratefully mouthed and licked at Alfie's neck as the larger man reached his climax with a grunt, gasping at the fingers tightening on his waist as he was pulled down roughly over the thick cock emptying his load inside his tight body.

After the last of his seed was properly disposed into Tommy, Alfie fell back against the edge of the tub, caressing at the boy's back and hair tiredly, sighing contently.

"Fuck, that was some..." but the younger man interrupted with an exhausted chuckle before he could finish.

"Pretty good stuff, innit?" Tommy mimicked him from earlier. He giggled, the cheeky bastard, as he peppered kisses along his shoulder and neck.

Alfie pinched the soft skin on his side as gentle scolding, "Making fun of an old man, are ya, boy?" but there was no heat in his words.

Tommy leaned forward to kiss the scowl off Alfie's lips, "Not at all, old man," his lips were like honey as he hummed into the kiss, lazily licking into Alfie's mouth and only breaking away enough to mutter the rest of his sentence, "I liked it too. Thought Mr. Changretta gave me the best fuck of my life before, but now," he nipped at the older man's bottom lip, "Now I might need to rethink that statement."

Alfie happily grumbled into the kiss and tightened his loose hold on the thin waist in his lap, "And I haven't even taken you to bed yet, treacle. Bet I could take that title with record speed and give you such an incredible dicking that you'll forget that wop ever existed. You'll be moaning my name and dreaming about my cock every night after I'm done with you. "Luca Changretta can't compete against the mighty Alfie Solomons and his glorious cock, nor his god-like bread" is what you'll be screaming on the streets."

Tommy laughed at that and kissed him through it, making Alfie's belly flutter with the joy he could bring this delicate little creature, "I'll be surely not spreading the word if that's true, Mr. Solomons. I like to keep the good ones to myself, I'm not good at sharing with the other boys who would throw themselves at your feet if such pieces of information were made public."

Alfie chuckled and hugged the boy tightly, kissing his pretty lips silly, before he let go and reached to the side for the milk.

"Drink up now, Tommy, my greedy little princess," Alfie lifted the bottle to the slighter man's lips, who, once again, instead of taking it into his own hands, let himself be pampered, and merely reclined his head to drink, "Gotta get your bird bones stronger, can't have you so little and fragile, now, can we? Atta boy."

A slight trickle of milk escaped the edge of Tommy's lips as he pulled back with a satisfied hum, "I'd like to remain little and fragile if that meant you'd take care of me, Mr. Solomons."

He licked at the spilled milk on his lips and gave a grateful little kiss to Alfie, licking into his mouth like it held more of the cool beverage. That boy sure loved kissing, huh.

Alfie held him back with a gentle hand on his jaw after a minute, replacing his mouth with the other slice they have brought up previously. Tommy eagerly munched on the sweet treat with delighted little sounds and let Alfie feed him until the last crumb.

When he was finished with cleaning Alfie's fingers with his tongue and only sucked on the digits for his own pleasure, hooded eyes slowly blinking from exhaustion, Alfie ruffled his still-wet hair.

"Let's get you to bed, sweetheart."

Tommy closed his eyes and hummed a protest around the fingers, but Alfie wasn't having it, taking the digits from his pliant mouth and slowly eased Tommy off of his now softened length with his hands around his waist.

Tommy mewled like a restless kitten as he was lifted out of the warm tub, but purred as he was toweled off by the larger man.

He could barely stand on his own and Alfie easily took the boy,- still wrapped in the soft, white towel,- into his arms and carried him to the bedroom.

"Goodnight, little princess," Alfie whispered into Tommy's hair and kissed his forehead as he carefully put him into the bed, but the boy was already deep asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

×××

Tommy awoke to cups clinking as a breakfast tray was put on the bedside table.

He blinked his eyes open slowly to see an older woman shake her head with a small smile at him then leave the room quietly, closing the door with an unfamiliar click.

He groaned softly and buried his face back to the comfortable pillow his head rested on to block out the early morning sunlight dancing in through the sheer curtains. But he quickly realized that the comfortable pillow was in reality a strong, hairy chest.

He breathed in the calming musky scent of the man below him before lifting his head to better observe his position.

The hunk, that picked him up after Changretta, and fucked his brains out last night in the tub, was snoring quietly below him with an arm draped over Tommy's small waist. His barrel chest slowly rising and falling with every breath and rocking Tommy's smaller body atop him gently.

Tommy put down his chin on his folded arms over Alfie and observed the sleeping man with a small smile for a few minutes. He was very handsome, his brown beard speckled with gold in the morning light.

Tommy's stomach grumbled and he looked to the side at the steaming cups of tea and babka slices. Time to wake the older man in the most bratty way possible.

He played with his beard and mustache until Alfie awoke with a frown and glared at the smaller man with sleepy eyes, making Tommy chuckle with how funny he looked as his short hair stood up at odd places.

"And good fucking morning to you too, you cheeky little cunt. Can't let an old man rest for a minute, can you, Tommy?"

Tommy innocently batted his eyelashes and tilted his head to the side but the mischievous smile remained, "Just wanted to eat breakfast together with you, grandpa, don't be so grumpy."

Alfie groaned as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other kneading at Tommy's soft flesh beneath his palm. Tommy purred into the sensation and leaned forward to press his lips to Alfie's cheek.

Alfie huffed and moved to sit up, Tommy immediately reclining against his front and getting comfortable in his lap, making Alfie chuckle, the sound vibrating against his naked back, "You really are like a kitten, can't seem to scrape you off, not that I mind."

Tommy gave a thoughtful hum and reached for the tray to pull it into his lap, Alfie kissing the side of his head before lifting a cup to his lips and sip at the tea, "I'm usually not like this, to be honest. Your affectionate behavior just rubs off on me, Mr. Solomons."

Alfie lifted a babka slice to Tommy's lips who gratefully nibbled on the sweet braided bread, once again letting himself be fed, "Good to know I have this exceptional effect on you, then. Also, call me Alfie if I'm not pounding you into the bed, boy."

"Alfie," Tommy's cheek heated as he tasted the name on his tongue with his mouth still full and reached for his own tea to wash it down, pouring a generous amount of milk and honey into the cup.

"That's right, good boy, Thomas," the older man praised with a peck on his soft cheek and went back to finishing off his tea and feeding Tommy until he was full.

After they finished their breakfast and Alfie got up to dress himself for the day, Tommy lounged around on the bed, stretching his lithe body on the sheets as he watched Alfie get ready.

"As I can see, Zipporah already cleaned and stitched together your dress from yesterday, but sadly I cannot offer you any lingerie below that," Alfie muttered as he threw the nightgown on Tommy's belly, "But how would you like if I took you shopping for some new ones before I return you to the hotel, hm?"

Tommy eyed him curiously and poked Alfie's chest with his raised foot, "Do you pamper all the whores you use like this, or should I consider myself special?"

Alfie chuckled and lifted his leg higher, with a hand on Tommy's ankle, until it was resting on his shoulder with his body between the boy's thighs, "You may consider yourself extra special, treacle, because you best believe that after that fucking wop is done with you, I'm buying you from your pimp at a price that could feed the whole of London for a week."

Tommy's breath caught at that and tried to softly kick at Alfie's head, "Don't joke about that."

Alfie leaned down and over him to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, "You think I'd joke about something like that, hm? Do you take me for a lying fool? I'll need your consent for sure, but I plan on keeping you if you'll have me, Tommy. Don't think I'll let other men use you after I had a taste of you. I'm not good at sharing either."

Tommy gasped softly and kissed Alfie feverishly as an answer, hardly believing the older man's truthful words, pulling him down and wrapping his legs around his waist, muffling Alfie's chuckle as he sank back on the bed.

Tommy could barely hear over his own thundering heartbeats and moans as Alfie groaned into his mouth, "My pretty little princess..."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this check me out on Tumblr at abusivelittlebunny, where I post art as well ;)


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